<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>H.F.S. by kinpika</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24181711">H.F.S.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinpika/pseuds/kinpika'>kinpika</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>spectre [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Almost Rewrite for Citadel, Bumped up the rating because of chap2 being Suggestive, F/M, Just to be safe, More characters to be added with updates, Post-ME3 Destroy Ending, Shepard is just a lil crankier and a lil more hankered down</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 23:28:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,843</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24181711</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinpika/pseuds/kinpika</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p><i>&gt;&gt;message received from grunt, 02.46am: fkn.. shut up. Shut up. im looking at jars on home spun. shut up</i><br/><br/>When Elizabeth Shepard is discharged from the hospital, post war, post heroic antics, she was looking forward to some long overdue shore leave in the conveniently and suddenly inherited apartment. Don't get her wrong - the view is to <i>die</i> for - but there's a top shelf with her name on it. No time for anything or anyone else. Leave a message after the tone.<br/><br/>Too bad not everyone got the memo.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kaidan Alenko/Female Shepard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>spectre [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1738051</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>it's starting slow and a lil angry. it will pick up. cross my heart.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“Reading of the last will and testament, of Admiral David Edward Anderson—”</em>
</p>
<p>Pause. Shepard has to take her eyes off the screen, looking up at the ceiling for. Something. Guidance, anything. Almost like she half expected Anderson to break through the solid white, and tell her to get off her ass. Or burst through the door once more, another operation under his wing, with that sly tone that suggested he was getting bored.</p>
<p>There’s a light touch on her hand, and Shepard. Exhales. Looks at her aunt, with her hair wound up in a neat bun, perfectly placed pins. Watery eyes. Couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen her cry — oh, wait, Mindoir. Shuttles. Safety.</p>
<p>“Hannah…” Her throat was still too scratchy; combination of drugs, water, lack of use.</p>
<p>Shepard wanted to complain. Kick her feet up, walk around, just do something. Not be stuck the hospital any longer. But the universe decided this was the best time to spring this on her, and she was quietly thankful it was just her and Hannah. No one else privy to watch her cry.</p>
<p>The screen keeps moving, once Hannah fires it up again. Pomp and ceremony. So much of it, with the way each word was undercut by pictures of Anderson. Of newspaper titles. First Human Councillor. Almost Spectre. Forever in our hearts.</p>
<p>“He would’ve hated this.”</p>
<p>Her aunt agrees, quietly. Already having been in attendance, taking on Shepard’s role. Next of kin, or some bullshit she never bothered to check. Maybe it was wrong, or it saved propping Shepard up in a chair. Hannah had already seen all this once, as things began being listed off. As Kahlee Sanders simply had tears rolling down her cheeks. For one moment, Shepard wondered if Anderson actually made that call he promised he would.</p>
<p>Didn’t matter now, did it? Private property, assets, all of it. Being handed off. A few photos, access to his home. “Even Cynthia was there.” Anderson always had a thing for blondes. Ones with lots of ‘spunk’, as he’d put it, one night on Arcturus. If Shepard thought about it, maybe that had been the anniversary of his divorce.</p>
<p>Really did know some strange things about him. Something about golf clubs, never used. An attempt at joke that has the murmur ripple and pick up, even the camera shake. Shepard doesn’t hear it, blinking slowly. Like a low pitched whine begins, and Hannah must have noticed, getting up from her chair.</p>
<p>“—located in the Tiberius Towers, Citadel, for Elizabeth Jane Shepard—”</p>
<p>“Wait, what?”</p>
<p>Sits up a little too fast, world tipping. “Elizabeth!” Hannah’s at her shoulders now, righting her up, fluffing up one too many pillows and it didn’t matter. Not when Shepard drags her finger over the display, pulling back to the announcement.</p>
<p>“Hann—Hannah! I’m fine!”</p>
<p>But there’s a doctor now, speaking over, chiding her aunt. Too much stimulus. Not enough rest. And Shepard wants to argue — months in a hospital bed, only moving for rehabilitation, was more than enough rest. Only so many times she could walk around the park outside, watching everything be rebuilt. Not a drop of rain, only ever pleasant sunshine.</p>
<p>Shepard hated it.</p>
<p>Even Tali’s advisement of getting into Fleet and Flotilla was beginning to appeal. Only so much Blue’s Anatomy could be consumed, and Shepard had politely ignored the horror retellings of Akuze and Torfan, perhaps even going so far as to report them. Who knows. All Shepard knew was that boredom was getting to her. That and the ever looming silence, apology, sleepiness she had become accustomed to.</p>
<p>Maybe she curses out her aunt, or the doctors, or everything. For when she wakes, the Citadel had entered its night cycle. Hannah’s presence had been replaced by perhaps a slightly more welcome figure by the window. Only marginally, as Kaidan turns when Shepard groans, hand going to her face. Eyeing the IV.</p>
<p>“Get me out of here.”</p>
<p>“<em>Elle</em>.” Kaidan’s tone is admonishing, but there’s a smile that plays around the corners of his lips when he takes her hand in his.</p>
<p>“I’m serious.”</p>
<p>“I know.”</p>
<p>“I’ll break out.”</p>
<p>With a snort, he reaches out, tone just bordering on too soft to hear, too gentle. “I <em>know</em>.” Too amused. Smooths her hair out of her face. Follows the lines and scars, to rest on her cheek. “You can barely focus right now. Are your eyes even open?”</p>
<p>Frown. Shepard doesn’t struggle — not one bit — to stare him down. No sir, not at all. “Yes.”</p>
<p>“Uh huh.”</p>
<p>A silence falls, and Shepard shifts in the bed. Ignores the likelihood that there was a permanent dip from where her body was, as she finds herself staring at the ceiling. Only a matter of time till she started crawling up the walls, clinging to the off white and metal. Although that idea wasn’t half bad, maybe she should start now.</p>
<p>“Hannah—Rear Admiral Shepard—said that you watched the vid.”</p>
<p>Kaidan was leaning forward, chin in hand, still not letting go of hers. Messy and tired, label of his shirt still hanging out. At least the bruises had faded, only a few thin scars on his face, shiny under the hospital lights.</p>
<p>“Yeah. An <em>apartment</em>. Fucking hell.” Scowling, Shepard stares out over his shoulder. “I already have one of those. I don’t need another.” The ‘I don’t even use it’ passes by quietly, heard but not spoken.</p>
<p>Slide of eyes across, when Kaidan manages to be remarkably quiet. “Can you help me up? I just want to sit in a chair or something.”</p>
<p>He obliges, with only mild complaining, mindful of tubing and bandages. Holds her steady, as Shepard takes those few steps over to the chair by the window. One hand, against the glass. Cool against her palm. Forehead soon to follow, and when she exhales, fog crawls up her vision.</p>
<p>“Do you want me to call someone?”</p>
<p>“No, no, I’m good. I promise.”</p>
<p>Parts of the Citadel lit up at night. Not nearly as many skycars flying by. If Shepard closed her eyes, she could almost imagine exactly where they found her. Gone now, long since had the rubble been picked up, now all shiny and new. But it was up there, like true north, with the way she found herself staring there. Gnawing at her lip, Shepard almost misses Kaidan starting to speak again.</p>
<p>“You’re healing well.”</p>
<p>Her turn to snort. “Cerberus actually did something right, then.” All those skin weaves weren’t for nothing, after all.</p>
<p>Dark shadow, half his face. Downward turn of lips, and one of them sighs. Both of them. Ignoring the little punctuation and reminder of Cerberus, Kaidan continues. Just a little quieter this time. “They’re thinking about releasing you. Early.”</p>
<p>“‘Early’? It’s been—”</p>
<p>Cutting her off with an almost sigh, Kaidan crosses his arms over his chest. “Your <em>aunt</em> suggested relocating you to the apartment, Elle. To get you out of here.”</p>
<p>Shepard has to. Pause. Breathe. Frown, as she turns to rest her cheek against the window now, looking at Kaidan. Meeting his eye, and watch how he stares back. “The apartment I literally just inherited?” Silence dragging. “That’s awfully convenient.”</p>
<p>Holding up a hand, Kaidan maintains that perfect sense of neutrality that at any other time, Shepard might appreciate. “I’m just the messenger. It’s not that far from Huerta, gives you a chance to get used to something other than a hospital bed—”</p>
<p>“Sound like you’re selling me a timeshare, not the suddenly inherited apartment I found out about, like, four hours ago.”</p>
<p>“Five, technically.”</p>
<p>“<em>Kaidan.</em>”</p>
<p>Maybe they were both fighting smiles. Maybe they were both tired. Too many lines around her eyes, a little more grey peppering in his hair. Just another moment that ran too long, opened up everything else. Things that had been ignored, back then. Back when it was just a matter of making it through the next few hours. Now it was just a matter of making it through the next course of something vaguely gelatine. Different time.</p>
<p>“I got myself some shore leave lined up. Saw some nice property to spend it at.”</p>
<p>“Again, selling timeshare, not an apartment.” And yet, Shepard laughs. Kicks her foot out to connect with the end of his chair, pushing him back just a little. Holding there, tapping his thigh now.</p>
<p>“Come on. I swore to uphold and honour and protect… or something along those lines.”</p>
<p>“Now that,” clicks her tongue on the ’t’, “sounds like a proposal.”</p>
<p>Kaidan’s fingers massage the back of her calf, while a thoughtful look crosses his face. “Maybe.” Move up, to rest on her knee. Until he’s leaning far enough forward, to grab the underside of her chair, pulling him closer. No biotics, nothing for show. Just him, and her, close enough to—</p>
<p>“Elizabeth, I—oh, Major, I didn’t realise you were here already.”</p>
<p>Shepard can feel her face form something vaguely resembling rolling her eyes, but it’s caught up in the way she scowls. Head falling back against the chair, and she stares. “Hannah.”</p>
<p>At least her aunt had some measure to appear embarrassed, if a little unimpressed. Whilst the ever threatened court-martialling for fraternisation had been held over her head sometime around saving the Council first and second time, the Alliance had never made a point of acting on it. Mentioned only in passing during her trial, before everything was shuffled aside.</p>
<p>Doesn’t mean Hannah didn’t mention something about it. Only had Shepard ask if they would actually consider throwing the book at her after everything. Apparently not, but that didn’t mean she still wasn’t going to be given that incredibly disappointed look that had been perfected over years of misdeeds.</p>
<p>“I’ll go grab a couple of cups of coffee.” Never let it be said that Kaidan didn’t give himself an out for everything. What was it he told her once? Always have an out. Should’ve known he meant that literally.</p>
<p>She stares after him with only mild annoyance, as Hannah takes his place. Carefully smoothing her expression out into absolutely nothing. Business face. What she used when ordering fleets, soldiers. The adopted niece she’d been saddled with, post-Mindoir, who refused to eat her vegetables. Shepard knew that face a little too well.</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>Hannah goes to say. Something. Anything. Opens her mouth, closes it softly. Stares out the window. “I assume Major Alenko told you the plan?”</p>
<p>“You don’t have to pull rank, y’know.” Felt like she was a teenager all over again. Knobbly knees, grass stained palms. Meeting the extended family for the first time. Running out the house as fast as she could. Judging by how far the door was now, Shepard figured she could get a good distance on her aunt before she noticed.</p>
<p>“I know.”</p>
<p>“And yet you’re still gonna do it?”</p>
<p>“It’s a hard habit to stop now… Commander.”</p>
<p>Scowling, Shepard pushes herself up. Not as wobbly on her feet this time. Righting her shirt, as she moves. One foot in front of the other. Don’t fall now. “I already told you, I resign. I’m not a ‘commander’ anymore.” Fingers to frame the word, as she says it.</p>
<p>“You told me that when you were half out of your mind on some of the heaviest painkillers that we had available—”</p>
<p>“And it still stands! I haven’t changed my mind.” Wait. “Is that what this is about? You don’t want me to leave the Alliance?</p>
<p>“Hannah, is that why you’re <em>suddenly </em>being so nice—”</p>
<p>“—Please, Elizabeth—”</p>
<p>“Why? I just want to get <em>out</em> of here, and—”</p>
<p>“Enough, the both of you!”</p>
<p>A new voice joins them. And he’s none too happy, accompanied by two more white coats. Shepard didn’t recognise the salarian, but had met the asari briefly, in one of the few times she’d woken up, mid-sedative induced dreams. Always polite, maybe a bit too on edge. It was Kaidan who suggested that the fear of losing Commander Shepard, saviour of the universe, was enough to cause anyone to clam up and panic. Not a wholly pleasant thought. Arguably funnier later on.</p>
<p>“It’s good to see you up, Commander.”</p>
<p>Shepard wants to argue, but snaps her jaw shut under the look Hannah gives her. “You too.” Through gritted teeth. “Can I be cleared? Hell, I’ll even take that apartment offer.”</p>
<p>“Of course. But we’d like to run some last few checks, especially after the incident earlier.”</p>
<p>A buzzword. ‘Incident’. Used to cover up anything from a worldwide emergency to falling down the stairs. Idly, Shepard wondered how many years until they referred to the Reapers as an <em>incident</em>. It took two years for them to refer to Sovereign as one. Judging by how many Reaper corpses were lying around, looking at more than a century.</p>
<p>“And then?”</p>
<p>“We’re happy to release you tomorrow morning, into the organised location. There will be extra security on board as well, to ensure your safety. You’ve healed remarkably well, but we just have to be sure.”</p>
<p>Deep inhale, before she drags out one word. “Fine.”</p>
<p>The doctor tilts his head towards the bed. Shepard sits on the edge, staring somewhere around the third tile from the window. Maybe it was a tile. Maybe it was just painted to look that way. Whatever it was, it kept her mind off how she’s pulled and poked and prodded. Salarian hopping around, holding out a diagram, while the asari scans. Matching up implant to implant. <em>That</em> gets some interest — only one person still had all that information and she was on the run.</p>
<p>And then there’s fingers, at her implant. Pushing hair aside, finding the too sensitive skin. Removing the dampner, and it’s a gut punch. Like energy unlocks, letting her feel. Stronger, lighter. Shepard bites her tongue, pushing back the smarmy comment about how that was convenient, too. Lets them take blood and tissue and whatever other samples they need or want. Change bandages. Lets her breathe.</p>
<p>As she grips the edge of the bed a little too tight, and they are done.</p>
<p>“Skin grafts taken well. Will keep additional colonies just in case.” Shepard raises a brow at the salarian doctor, catching his name tag. Arla. Talk to text, omni-tool lighting up, as he rattles off procedures and precautions for the future.</p>
<p>“You’ve healed remarkably, Commander.” Again with saying that. But Shepard realises the name of the asari doctor. Linea. Apparently she’d been inadvertently funded during one of Shepard’s first trips to the Citadel, years ago. “As long as you don’t overexert yourself, all the tests look to the positive.”</p>
<p>Shepard doesn’t want to be particular, but that was what they said two weeks ago. Something had changed. Although, the acknowledgement of getting out as fast as possible took over the necessity to think too deeply on it. For now, at least. Pack the lingering thoughts and worries away to be reminded of at four in the morning of this planetary cycle.</p>
<p>Always needed an excuse not to sleep through the night. “So I’m good to go? No taking this back by deciding to see if my reflexes work, right?”</p>
<p>Good humour laugh, attempt at easing her. Always just a fraction annoying. “Yes, you’re good to go. We’ll have your release forms signed tonight.”</p>
<p>Hannah tenses at the admission, but there are handshakes. Pleasantries. Keep in contact via mail and someone will drop by over the weekend. Maybe use a diary. All the kinds of things she’d heard over the last few decades. So Shepard agrees, of course, doctor, I’ll get right on it, and they leave with one more smile.</p>
<p>Just her and her aunt. Or Rear Admiral. Apparently Hannah still hadn’t decided which line she was going to play. With a loud sigh, Shepard crosses her arms, mindful of the bandages at her wrist from where they’d removed the IV, and tries to. Huh. She really hadn’t changed, had she?</p>
<p>Swallows her pride. “Hannah, hey… sorry, about before, y’know with the—uh—”</p>
<p>“It’s fine. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have sprung it on you like that. Both times.”</p>
<p>To say that it was suddenly remarkably awkward was an understatement. Clearing her throat after a beat, Shepard makes a move, to say something — <em>anything — </em>when Hannah holds up a hand.</p>
<p>“I know you’re your own person, Elizabeth. I’ve always known. It’s what made my sister love you in the first place. Just <em>please</em>, think about your resignation.”</p>
<p>“It really means that much to you, huh?”</p>
<p>Hannah’s voice is soft then. Bordering on too quiet, with her admission: “I never wanted it for you in the first place.”</p>
<p>Reflexive. That’s how she is. Brows jumping, face pinching kind of reflexive. Beating a dead horse kind of argument. Oh, she thought of a really good, really bad sort of comparison then. The opening up old wounds kind of comparison. They would be right back at square one, but it would mean that Shepard would stop digging her fingers into her skin, threatening to break it.</p>
<p>Saved by the bell. Knock, softly on the door. Hannah gives her a long and mournful look, Shepard knows. “Thanks, Hannah.” And that’s enough for now.</p>
<p>Kaidan steps into view, hands in pockets. Strong release of air, that says it all. Weird tension. Whatever. Whatever whatever whatever! Flopping back against the bed, she kicks herself underneath, palms digging into her eyes. So much for the strong and immovable <em>Commander</em>.</p>
<p>“Got room for one more?”</p>
<p>Shepard has a dozen things to say to him, slowly moving her hands from her eyes. “And where were <em>you</em> when I was being used as a glorified pin cushion?” She settles, comfortably, for the easy beats. Rhythm and practice and enough space.</p>
<p>Kaidan looks remarkably embarrassed, as he takes the offered space on the bed. Kicks off his boots, on his side, pulling the sheets up around them. “I’m afraid of needles.”</p>
<p>“I thought you were afraid of doctors.” Looking at him out the corner of her eyes, Shepard watches the grin grow wider on his face.</p>
<p>“And hospital beds.”</p>
<p>Letting out a low whistle, Shepard can’t stop fighting her own smile. “That makes things difficult, doesn’t it?”</p>
<p>Humming his agreement, he kisses her temple, fingers finding their way into her hair. “The things I do for you.”</p>
<p>And he says, I can’t wait for tomorrow. And he says, I’m sorry for bailing. And he says it all without taking a breath, as Shepard stares out over the Citadel, holding Kaidan’s free hand in hers. Work out the logistics and technicalities tomorrow. Last few hours didn’t matter now. Tells herself that, anyway, pulling him closer.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Now don't get me wrong, I do love the Citadel DLC. But it just doesn't really fit y'know. Anyway, my own spin, borrowing elements from it, and other stuff.</p><p>Also I say post-Destroy but in the grand scheme of things it's my own bloody ending with some elements taken from that too. At some point I'll post the rewrite of ME3 I have planned and started.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this chapter is pure shenko and borders on incredibly suggestive. no excuse.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kaidan insists on carrying her across the threshold. It’s funny, in a way, as she keeps her arms securely around his neck, eyes taking in the room. Even as he has to lean down a fraction, omni-tool flaring to unlock the door. Everything had been kind of funny the last few months, like they were sitting in the limbo again. No threats of life or death situations, just press releases and maintaining hope.</p>
<p>Except now she’s settled on the lounge, walking stick by her side, while he stands there, arm raised. Fiddling with little interfaces and lights on, soft hiss, no, <em>that wasn’t right</em>. Shepard pulls her knees up into her chest, looking out over the Citadel skyline once more. At least the angle was different. More high-rises, less movement. Like they were the only ones in this little pocket of the universe.</p>
<p>She could deal with that.</p>
<p>“Alright, that should be the heating fixed up.”</p>
<p>Small secret, just the two of them. Shepard liked it to run a little warmer, meant the cold of space was kept out. Makes her fall in love all over again. “I’m surprised it’s not… dusty,” is what she says instead, because Kaidan was humble, even as he flops on the lounge beside her. “Would’ve thought it had been a while since Anderson had been here.”</p>
<p>“Actually, I brought in a cleaning crew last week to fix up the windows, clean, and—shit! Forgot the groceries again.” Slaps himself in the forehead, groaning, sinking further into pillows.</p>
<p>But Shepard doesn’t care. Not when she’s kneeling now, pulling his hands away from his face. Something she can’t quite talk about fills her chest, as she kisses him. Lightly and tenderly. Thank you, she breathes, instead. Every inch of her thrumming with thanks and love and she grins, broadly, as he turns a delicate shade of pink, mumbling a small “always.”</p>
<p>Another kiss. Fraction deeper, lingering a second more. If only because she hadn’t had an opportunity to, not just yet. Not in the quiet, tucking errant hairs behind Kaidan’s ears, finding that five o’clock shadow along the curve of his jaw. Meeting his eyes, warm and safe, and resting her forehead against his.</p>
<p>“What does the rest of the place look like?”</p>
<p>“I think Anderson’s retirement fund, and then some, was spent on this place.”</p>
<p>“That good?”</p>
<p>Kaidan nods, kissing her as he does so. In between each word. “Three bedrooms. Private office. Gallery. Fancy.”</p>
<p>“Sounds like the kind of place we’d have a firefight in.”</p>
<p>That earns her a snort, as Kaidan pulls back. “Don’t get any ideas. You’re supposed to be resting.”</p>
<p>“I <em>have</em> been resting! Please tell me there’s targets of <em>some</em> kind around here!”</p>
<p>“No… but there’s a hot tub upstairs.” <em>Oh</em>. She liked the way he looked at her then, a wiggle of his eyebrows. Until he smacks her thigh, pushing himself up to stand. “Come on. Tour, shower. Clean clothes. And we can order in something to eat.”</p>
<p>For the most part, Shepard walks on her own. A hand hovers at the small of her back, the other out to the side, as they make their way down past the fireplace. Bar. Screen. <em>Hamster</em>. The noise that leaves Shepard at the sight of Boo was not something she would linger on, as she hobbled just those few extra steps to the cage.</p>
<p>“How…?”</p>
<p>No answer, just a smile. Taps the side of his nose. His secret. “Come on.”</p>
<p>A backwards glance at her hamster, as they move on again. Through the kitchen, which gets barely a passing remark, a frank reminder that it would need to be filled with food soon. Study, back corner, littered with books and awards. Shepard stands at the door, looking in, not sure if she should. Almost reminded her of Anderson’s old office. Offices. Ones she’d be escorted to, sometimes, conduct unbecoming. Other times for another award to pin to her chest, before she was thrown back out into the line of fire. Design hadn’t changed, just swapped out cool metal for wood.</p>
<p>Later, she’d go through it. Much later. Not when she sticks her head in the next room, brows drawing together at the sight of the bedroom. “You said there were three?”</p>
<p>“Mmhmm.”</p>
<p>Shepard almost rattles off something, about the space and the openness and the punching bag sitting there, but she doesn’t. Purses her lips, moving around to take in the garden of pebbles. The stairs. Deep breath, reaching for Kaidan’s hand, as she moves up. Determination alone had been able to get her through rehabilitation, get all the little boxes ticked off, passing grade. But her knees still ached, everything clenched. One more step.</p>
<p>Made it to the top. Taking a moment, Shepard does look over her shoulder, taking in the view. How the sky hadn’t moved off something vaguely orange for a good few hours, now. Not since they left the hospital, at least. But the more she focused, the more she was able to breathe again, clean and easy, pushing on. To the open seating and second bedroom, growing larger, more questions.</p>
<p>“Who even needed this much space?” She asks aloud. Slams a hand on the panel, turning off the lights and closing the door.</p>
<p>Ever present question of ‘what was Anderson thinking?’. Leaving her something like this, with wide open spaces, too many rooms. Blessing in disguise that there was still a healthy dose of painkillers in her system, keeping her slow and comfortable, even though she could feel her anxiety peaking behind it all. And she knows, now, of all times, she shouldn’t expect anything bad. Of course not.</p>
<p>But that sort of thinking never helped anyone.</p>
<p>Last room, wider, longer, bigger bed. Several bags thrown haphazardly to the side. When she sits down on the edge of the bed, she <em>bounces</em>, and Kaidan laughs loudly. Master bedroom, with furnishings nicer than anything she had seen since. Well. Ever. Fingers curling into the blankets, she notes open wardrobe, bathroom off to the side. What she would assume was the hot tub.</p>
<p>“Stay here, let me just check the water pressure.”</p>
<p>I’m not moving, she doesn’t say. Just smiles, watching the omni-tool come to life once more. Being held out over things she can’t see. Laying back on the bed, Shepard stretches out. Pop of joints, but absolutely golden when hearing water hit the tub, Kaidan’s little fist pump, <em>yes</em>. Whilst she didn’t say it, she felt it. Thought it. That the way Kaidan grins as he makes his way back into the room was undeniably cute.</p>
<p>Holding her hands up, he pulls her to her feet. “Aren’t you a big, tough space marine?” Teasing, as he pulls off her hoodie, shirt.</p>
<p>“Nope. Damselling myself right now. <em>Oh</em>!” Hand against her forehead, as he pushes down his pants. “Whatever shall I do?”</p>
<p>With a snort, shake of his head, Kaidan walks those few extra steps to the bathroom, shirt falling to the side. “Come along then, <em>your majesty</em>.”</p>
<p>“Wait, I haven’t got my pants off yet.” Hard to say if there was a little more energy in her, or if she was just too caught up. Especially when she was naked, ignoring the mirror. Peering around the edges to the hot tub, the little seat tucked into the opposite corner of the room.</p>
<p>“That for me?” His hand was at her back now, when she asks. Trailing up, to find her implant under her hair.</p>
<p>“Mmm, just in case you were too tired.” Idle comment, as he sets her amp on the vanity, before moving to remove his own. “Wait, forgot the dampners.”</p>
<p>Shepard leans against the door frame, as Kaidan makes the quick walk across the room to where the bags were. Upends one on the bed, then the other, before finding the dampners with something that sounded like a relieved sigh. Rolling them over in his hands as he returns, there’s an almost apologetic look on his face, as she lifts up her hair. Slots the dampner in, waiting for the click.</p>
<p>Taking the other one out of his hands, Shepard fits his. Keeping her fingers, just there, along the fine line of hairs. “You’re doing too much for me, y’know.”</p>
<p>“It’s a matter of perspective.” Kaidan kisses the tip of her nose, just so. “I remember you doing something similar to this for me after Feros, after the Citadel, after Mars — sometimes with a broken arm—”</p>
<p>“Kaidan…”</p>
<p>He keeps a hand against her cheek, smiling softly. “I’m not making this into a competition. Or that I ‘owe you’ one. This is because I <em>want</em> to. Because I love you, Elizabeth.”</p>
<p>Shepard loses the fight to stop grinning. “I love you, too.”</p>
<p>Another kiss, one more, for good luck. Her cheeks, forehead, temples. Wherever he could. “Good,” he breathes against her hair, as they hug, tighter than they had in months. “Say it for me again?” Voice ending on a question, a <em>please</em>.</p>
<p>“I <em>love</em> you.” Doesn’t pull away, muffled against his shoulder. “I do, I really, really do.”</p>
<p>One last squeeze, before they part. Reluctantly, but Kaidan is the first one in. “Normally I would say shower first but—” he looks around. “It’s in the other room. I think.”</p>
<p>“I’m not one for interior design but I feel like that might be wrong on some levels.”</p>
<p>Keeping her hands firmly on his shoulders, his at her waist, he lifts her, in a way she hadn’t been for a long time. Moving, to have her stand beside him, water only up to their thighs. Different. Couldn’t ever say she’d been in one of these, in all her time. And the jets hadn’t been turned on yet.</p>
<p>With some manoeuvring, they find the easy medium of balancing, almost zero-gee. Close enough, that she can feel her heart thump a little too hard, not completely weightless, but she’s there. Pinching her nose, closing her eyes, too close. Head under the water. Coming up to breathe. Kaidan watching her with that careful look in his eye, steadying in how he holds her, offering all kinds of washes and scrubs.</p>
<p>An easy distraction, as she still balances on her legs, finding some purchase in almost squatting. Getting the last bit of hospital out of her skin, mindful of bruises and the remains of omni-gel over where they had done one last blood test. New scars, new burns, but Kaidan runs more shampoo than necessary through her hair, while she does the same in return.</p>
<p>Leaning back once more, her head barely disappearing under the water, Shepard sighs. Pushes suds out of her eyes, blinking through. Smelling distinctly of varying berries from Earth, it was hard to fight the knee-jerk reaction. To be ready. To be prepared. To let herself keep a steady hand on his shoulder, while Kaidan pours an inordinate amount of conditioner on his hands. Pulls it through, freeing tangles as he goes.</p>
<p>One of them pulls the shower head free. Too much steam, heat, hands on her. Singular jet, running over her hair, while he’s solid and real in front. Almost like she could convince herself that they were squeezing themselves into the one in the cabin. Outside the universe was passing by. Onto the next mission. That was familiar, far more than an apartment on the Citadel could ever be. Even the one on Intai’sei was almost right.</p>
<p>She really was going to miss being aboard ships, huh.</p>
<p>“Where’s your head at?”</p>
<p>“It’s here, don’t worry.” Shaking the water out from her eyes, she pulls the shower head free from him, setting it back up. Water off. Catching the runaway droplets from his skin with the tip of her finger. “Still getting my bearings.”</p>
<p>There’s a million questions on his face, but he settles for the flat of her palm, middle of his chest. Pushing him into the corner. Shepard holds Kaidan there, knees settling either side. And she says, <em>you need a shave</em>, as she follows the barely there signs of grey, scars, around his ears and curling fingers into his hair. Forehead against his, as she waits for the water to stop moving.</p>
<p>As Kaidan stretches his arms out, he asks, “What did you wanna do for lunch?”</p>
<p>“Could go for anything, really.” Shrug. “Not thinking about that right now.”</p>
<p>“I’ll put an order in for the fridge, and—”</p>
<p>Finger over his lips now. Rolling her eyes as she says, “Kaidan, <em>relax.</em>”</p>
<p>“What?” Barely gets the word out, even as he frowns. Mind working overtime. Trying to run up numbers and figure out where he’d gone wrong.</p>
<p>“You’ve done more than enough.” And with that, Shepard pulls up her omni-tool. “I’m going to assume your order hasn’t changed in two years. I’ll get an extra serve of rice.”</p>
<p>“Elle—”</p>
<p>“Shh. Let me kiss you. Worry about food when it gets delivered.”</p>
<p>Maybe there’s a noise of agreement. Or she just wasn’t listening, as she kisses him again. Tighter now, lingering at the corner of his mouth as she settles on his lap. Kaidan lets out a soft ‘ah’, lightbulb going off, and she follows the flush of red that spreads down the column of his throat, teeth finding the dip of his collarbone. Lave her tongue just there, moving her way back up with featherlight kisses.</p>
<p>“I <em>missed</em> you.” Kaidan groans, as his grip on her hips tightens, holding her tight, as he goes to stand. Legs locked behind his back, as he makes it the few steps to the edge, sitting her on the metal.</p>
<p>“A couple of months of handies really wasn’t cutting it.” Shepard laughs, as his fingers dig into her sides, kissing his way down her chest.</p>
<p>“Hell no.” Mumbled into her hip, “it <em>really</em> wasn’t.”</p>
<p>There’s other words. Praises, moans, thanks. Wrapped up in the way he parts her thighs, Shepard pushing herself up on her elbows to meet his eye. Lips on the inside of her knee, closer, closer. Warmth and waiting and she had never considered herself a patient person, but—</p>
<p>
  <em>“Major Alenko, I have a man requesting being able to enter the premises.”</em>
</p>
<p>“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Oh, she was not getting cock-blocked by the food delivery, no sir, not at all. “Don’t you dare touch that—”</p>
<p>Kaidan straightens himself, with all the grace of a man who had been blue-balled to hell and back. As he pulled up the commlink, Shepard knew this is why he was the one who got the promotions. Voice incredibly level — like he hadn’t been about to go down on her only a minute before. “Is he from the Stand?”</p>
<p>
  <em>“Yessir. Says he has a food delivery for Commander Shepard, sir.”</em>
</p>
<p>“I’m not hungry.”</p>
<p>With a roll of his eyes, aimed only for her, Kaidan consents to his access. “Let him into the hallway. I’ll be down in a moment.”</p>
<p>Before the comm blips out, Shepard doesn’t hesitate. “I’m very disappointed in you.”</p>
<p>“I know.” Leaning on her thighs, letting the water carry his body. Before he sighs, pushing himself up. “But you have to eat. ‘Tour, shower, clean clothes’, remember?”</p>
<p>Mock salute, and it’s an effort to roll to her knees, push herself up. Only a hand at her back, letting her do the work herself, as they towel off. Shepard wants for nothing more than to tell them to just leave the food by the door, except Kaidan throws clean clothes at her, as he goes through the remaining bags. Pulling on his own, he wasn’t immune to the look she was giving him.</p>
<p>Instead, he just laughs to himself, slinging an arm around her shoulders. “Come on. I promise, scout’s honour, that we will have sex within the next twenty-four hours.”</p>
<p>“This coming from you, mister ‘I’m only here for a quick drink’.”</p>
<p>“Hey, don’t knock the lines. They work.”</p>
<p>Her turn to snort, as he leaves her by the counter, moving towards the door. Blocking the view of the man, who seemed to falter at the sight of Kaidan, if the way his head dropped from looking over his shoulder was anything to go by. And how he looked around the door, before it closed in his face.</p>
<p>“I hope you left a tip.”</p>
<p>“Always do.”</p>
<p>Shepard sits herself on the edge of the counter, watching how Kaidan moves. Checking cabinets for cutlery or plates or maybe it was glasses. Didn’t matter much to her, as she pops the lids on everything, sticky fingers, picking at the steaming food. Still bordering on too hot. Swallow straight, burning the back of her throat. Spicy. Kaidan raises a brow, as he ventures closer with utensils, taking one of the tubs as his. Comfortable silence, until she gives him a long look.</p>
<p>“So, how did you even get time off? I thought they wanted you up at Arcturus to oversee reconstruction.”</p>
<p>With a shrug, Kaidan inhales a mouthful. Chokes, thumping his chest, before setting his meal aside. “Racked up enough hours with relief efforts, something from Hackett about you getting ‘antsy’ and making people nervous at the hospital… was in everyone’s ‘best interest’ if we took some shore leave.”</p>
<p>“Together?” That was surprising.</p>
<p>“I’m not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth.” Breaks the seal on one of the cans of beer, offering another hand wave almost shrug. “They can court martial us later for all I care.”</p>
<p>Ah, he was tired. So Hannah wasn’t lying when she mentioned how Kaidan was overworking himself. The pieces were there, but Shepard wasn’t able to put them all together, not just yet. “Not if I leave first.”</p>
<p>Kaidan drinks deeply, watching her over the rim. Sets the can aside, and doesn’t shift that gaze off her face, as she insists on paying attention to the noodles. “You’re serious about it, then? The leaving part?”</p>
<p>“Mmm… yeah, I guess I am.” It wasn’t a hard decision. Thought of somewhere around Sur’kesh, when she was outrunning Cerberus again. But that was kept to herself. “You’re the career man, anyway. You can bring home the bacon and stories. I’ll sit and clean the house.”</p>
<p>“You’d be bored within five minutes,” he laughs, stealing a piece of meat from her bowl. “Next thing, smuggling yourself onboard. Guarantee it.”</p>
<p>Poking her tongue out, she then sniffs. “Maybe, maybe not. Besides, I haven’t handed my resignation into the council, so I still have that. Operative work was fun.”</p>
<p>He mouths ‘operative work’. Two different wavelengths. Too many thoughts and it was conversation that would have to happen, at some point anyway. Alongside the many others, of what next. Do they tick the boxes? Fill out the forms? Shepard wasn’t asking, right now, anyway. Not when she catches his arm, tugging for him to look at her.</p>
<p>“Hey, not now. We can talk about it later.”</p>
<p>“I think it’s kind of important, Elle.”</p>
<p>“It is, I know. But I’ve been arguing about it for weeks on end… I don’t wanna do that right now, Kaidan. I really don’t.”</p>
<p>Folds his arms over his chest. There’s a pinch, right there, she knows. Just a little amount of pressure, and it becomes very loud in his head. And he doesn’t complain, when she reaches for his temples, drawing light circles along his skin. “Come on. Let’s see what movies they’re running.”</p>
<p>Hopping off the counter, Shepard pulls him by the hand. “And we can talk later. Promise.”</p>
<p>“Promise?”</p>
<p>Salutes. “Yessir, Major Alenko, sir. Promise.”</p>
<p>“Alright, alright, <em>smart-ass</em>.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>but little did they know... the plot of the citadel dlc was going to come into effect next chapter yeehaw</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>okay a little bit of violence, guns, blood mention, etc. nothing overly grotesque or descriptive.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When the bed dips, Shepard opens her eyes. Politely, she had ignored it the first time, if only as she had been able to stretch out on the mattress. But now there was another body in the room, and he was framed by the overhead lights, like a little halo around his hair, catching all the curls.</p><p>“Fancy meeting you here,” she says, voice croaky, just waking up. Like her body was slowly pulling itself back together (a passing thought, of maybe the doctors weren’t entirely wrong). Poking the end of his nose, before her arm flops back on the bed once more. “<em>You</em> left again.”</p><p>“Payback for all the times on the Normandy.” And Kaidan performs a balancing act most daring, of leaning down, holding the tray up high, to press a delicate kiss to her lips. “I made you breakfast in bed.”</p><p>With a groan, Shepard pushes herself up. “That has to be the <em>sexiest</em> thing you’ve ever said to me.” Almost forgets there was food in the room. Almost. Not when she forgoes the cutlery in favour of pulling apart the pancakes, still hot, covered in syrup.</p><p>One last piece, broken off, held up towards Kaidan’s lips. Pushed between, with barely there kisses against her skin. “Mmm, I do make some good pancakes.”</p><p>“Talking like you’ve never made them before.”</p><p>“Oh, no, I have learned to perfect the art of breakfast — since meeting you at least.” A wink, as he bites into the bacon. “Something about needing ‘extra fuel’.”</p><p>“I <em>do</em> have a large appetite.” Trying to smother the smug smile that plays at the corner of her lips, Shepard instead focuses on toast. Jam. Sticky fingers, reaching over for the juice on the bedside table. “And besides, breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”</p><p>“Uh huh. We eat like seven times a day though. Every meal is important.” Pause. “And technically you can eat breakfast at any time in space. It’d be morning somewhere.”</p><p>“You… are such a nerd.” Said with such awe, like it had potentially been the first time Shepard had realised such a thing. </p><p>Kaidan snorts then, making no move to retort. Lying on his side, hand propping up his head, deigning to reach over the tray to find food. Shirt loose and soft, Shepard knows, with how it sits along his stomach. And he’s got new bruises and old scars, scattered about on his skin, too focused on topping off another piece of bacon with syrup. Not at all noticing how she sits and watches and takes it in.</p><p>There’s another onset of the whiplash, of how this almost hadn’t been. Pressure on the base of her skull, sitting heavy and hot. Shepard doesn’t appreciate the feeling or reminder, burst of energy in the form of unravelling herself from the bed. Nearly tripping on the way to the wardrobe, door opening upon her presence.</p><p>“By the way, have you actually seen the clothes in here?”</p><p>A short pause, before she hears Kaidan snort from the bed. “Do you want me to answer that honestly?”</p><p>Pursing her lips, Shepard doesn’t respond to the question. Instead pulls free one of the dresses she had spotted the day before. All thin material and ribbon, offering little for the imagination. Looking over it once more, there is a thought, that if things had gone differently after Elysium, she might’ve worn something similar.</p><p>Instead, she whips around, holding it close. Trying to smooth it out, walking out of the wardrobe enough to let the light catch it. “See? Who put this in there? Like <em>where</em> would you even wear something like this?”</p><p>Perhaps she let Kaidan linger on the thought a moment too long, when she looks up. Rolls her eyes at the wink he gives her. “I think it would look good—”</p><p>“If you finish that sentence with what I think you will, so help me.”</p><p>“What, it’s a classic! Don’t knock the classics.”</p><p>Kaidan laughs in the face of the withering glare she sends his way. One of the few who probably could. Even as she catches the way the material looks, pressed up against herself in the mirror, frown deepening. Shepard angles her leg out, ignoring the snort from Kaidan as best she could and. Takes it in. Barely-there material against her broad frame. A weird concept that hadn’t occurred to her, almost, not entirely. Not even on the few days of shore leave that Kaidan and herself managed to pull together, after Ilos. After Saren.</p><p>With a click of her tongue, she drops it to the ground. Too much lingering and not enough of anything else. Even as he holds out a hand, halfway to saying something about the dress, or her, or something else entirely, by the time the hanger makes a noise, it’s not the only thing that goes.</p><p>A bang, that reverberates along the back of her teeth. Bedroom door still open. Came from the main lounge. Shepard doesn’t think, as she reaches out, pulling Kaidan closer towards her. Even as the skin sears on the back of her neck, pushing outside the dampner, and he has to take a few steps forward. Edging her back, until the door to the walk-in closed behind him.</p><p>“Anderson would have a gun in here somewhere, right?”</p><p>Words spoken from somewhere outside. Hush, don’t let them <em>hear</em>. Lights in the walk-in throw everything into a dull orange, slowly winking out. If she strained her ears, she might be able to hear footsteps — or the thrum of her heart, loud, around.</p><p>Taking up too much time or space or everything in between. Only in the last few days had she slept easily through the night, undisturbed and no longer plagued. Biotics bite into the back of her teeth, reminding her too much of what it should be like. Or how it might never have ended, and the cool metal against her palms as she leans against the cupboards wasn’t fooling her. Yes, it was. No, it wasn’t.</p><p>Kaidan’s first touch against her cheek is tender, eyes determined in holding hers steady. Breathe, in and out. Like she’d practiced a dozen times before, not watching his free hand, pulling at the drawers around her. The hand against her skin slips around, to where the dampener sat. It’s always a rush, dizzying. Gone, when he affixes the amp back in place.</p><p>“I think we have company.”</p><p>Always the observant one. Several pairs of feet, cracking on broken glass below. Shepard doesn’t question how she can hear it, through walls and doors. Could judge the explosion, how it likely took out several windows. Or, she could simply watch as Kaidan finds the drawer she knew existed, pulling free two smaller firearms.</p><p>She didn’t realise she had reacted visibly, until Kaidan rolls his eyes. “It’s not the Normandy. Probably didn’t expect anything above someone ringing the doorbell and running.”</p><p>Slipping into a frown, Shepard frees the pistol from his hands. “Doubt it. Anderson was a sneaky bastard when he wanted to be.”</p><p>Safety off. Stripe lighting on the floor, that she barely notices. If anything, it’s a guiding light out. And in.</p><p>“How many do you think?”</p><p>“For us? Well, a polite number would be at least ten.”</p><p>“Five each?”</p><p>Kaidan holds a hand above the sensor, readying to push out. Pauses, if only to turn back to her. “Oh, no. Definitely at <em>least</em> seven for you, three for me.”</p><p>With a snort, Shepard reaches up, lips gentle against his cheek. “I can’t tell if you’re being sweet, or if you’re being humble.”</p><p>Something about the exchange was oddly reassuring in that moment. Like they weren’t just standing there, in old shirts and underwear. Mental armour, which Shepard would decide later if was a good thing or a bad thing. Not quite invincible, but her back did feel a little straighter, shoulders a little stronger.</p><p>“Okay, what’s the plan?”</p><p>“Shoot first, ask questions later?”</p><p>“<em>Kaidan</em>.”</p><p>“Don’t ‘Kaidan’ me.” Sensor pressed, and he leads her out. One of them happened to be smart enough to push the door closed <em>just</em> enough. “I’ll take the closest staircase, you go around and come in behind.”</p><p>Maybe she says ‘alright’ out loud. Or, counts to three. Whoever had decided to grace them with their presence hadn’t quite made it up the stairs. Enough time for Kaidan to push into the bookcase, pressing against it. Waiting.</p><p>Shepard moves then, other side of the door. Tilting her head around to see them move up now. They meet eyes, half a moment, and there’s words and sentences and Kaidan, pressing his gun up against the wall. First person to come close gets one foot past the case, when Kaidan fires. First shot, at the foot, dropping the man forward. The second finds home, and Shepard doesn’t wait for the body to hit the ground, as she pushes forward, shoulder to shoulder with him.</p><p>Shouting now, but they get in one kiss. One, that was warm and dry, lost in the biotic fields that grow, as Kaidan pulls away first. Shepard doesn’t watch him move around the bookcase, as it’s her fight now. Throwing herself against the back of the couch when someone comes up the opposite stairs. Blind fire, hitting cushions and in all the movies she had seen before, throwing feathers into the air.</p><p>One click, and perhaps it was the only time Shepard was thankful for thermal clips. As it takes her three swift movements, of pushing herself up, aiming steady, and firing twice, to remove him from the word. Huff of air, feathers out of her face, she nearly misses the presence behind her. Throws herself down at the omni-blade that veers too close, searing through the couch, catching her in the side, and it takes one, two, three, to knock the man down.</p><p>Heavy on top, as she struggles to push him off, clutching her side. Too much armour, likely made him slower. Didn’t matter now, as Shepard kicks him off, fishes for the spare clips, medi-gel and. Tips his head to the side. Tattoo, that sits blocky and heavy, far too much of an identifier for the most average mercenary. <b>CAT6</b>.</p><p>Or not.</p><p>A hand slaps against the stairs on her side, and it doesn’t matter now. She’s moving despite the pain, double tap, stepping around the field that still lingered. Good thing they had breakfast. Good thing she could still land on her feet, as she pushes over the railing, landing heavy. But enough to connect her fist with the ground, focus, watching the tiles and metal twist as the shockwave moves forward. Flips her target upwards into the piano, stopping him from taking out Kaidan from behind.</p><p>Shepard isn’t the one who gets the last shot in. No claim on that one, as Kaidan kicks out. Hard enough, that it throws one of their attackers into another, and out the window once more. Impressive. She’d have to remember that one for another time. But Shepard hadn’t moved from where she was crouched, feeling all kinds of winded. Stumbles upwards — ignoring the way glass forms little pinpricks under her feet — towards the main lounge.</p><p>Kaidan reaches for her, with a certain measure of relief. But the world ticks slow, as one more appears from around the dividing wall, rifle raised. Shepard decided, in that split second, she didn’t like living a movie.</p><p>In all honesty, it was an easy manoeuvre. One she had performed more than a dozen times over. Different location, but practice was the same, as she kicks off, gravity nonexistent for the briefest moment. Feet finding purchase in the wall, as she rushes, encased in dark matter alone, legs catching the man’s shoulders. It was a matter of seconds, truly, for her to wrap her self around his neck, and force him to tip her into the ground. Bring him down with her. Like child’s play.</p><p>Overestimating herself was the order of the day however, as all the muscles in her leg pinch at once, and she finds herself slammed into the ground. Her legs locked around the man’s neck, but it was his gun against her sternum. Hot, right through the thin shirt she wore. Wouldn’t be the first time this had happened, but Shepard hadn’t closed her eyes before.</p><p><em>Bang</em>! Not her gun, nor his. Perhaps his reaction time had fallen well within the frame of expectancy, as Kaidan merely raises a brow once her attacker falls to the side. Pool of blood forming, fire clean through. Shepard grunts, untangling herself, damn near slipping in the liquid and the glass, hand catching the front of Kaidan’s shirt.</p><p>Finally, the door is kicked in. Reflexive reaction, hemmed in from years of survival, has them both raise their pistols towards the door. Metal clatters across the floor, and Shepard couldn’t say who was more surprised to see the other. Especially when Joker stumbles in, with a clear balk that he makes no attempt to cover, settling instead for a wide smile.</p><p>“<em>Wrow</em>. Major, I have to say, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone wear tighty-whities quite like you.”</p><p>And in one statement, Kaidan seems to be remarkably more aware of the state of the apartment and themselves. Barest hint of colour along his ears, as he replies, “With all due respect, Joker, shut the fuck up.”</p><p>Turning around, Shepard noticed two more mercenaries over the stairs. Added them to the count she had going and realised, with some amount of astonishment that. “Huh. You guessed right.”</p><p>“Hm?”</p><p>C-Sec had made their way in, weapons at the ready, omni-tools out as they scanned and moved. Even as Joker seemingly ignored whatever evidence collecting was going on, striding forward.</p><p>“What was that, Elle?”</p><p>“Ten. There was ten.”</p><p>Kaidan looks over, and seems to work it out himself. “You took out… three?”</p><p>“Yeah. So much for I get seven, huh? Were you being polite or humble?”</p><p>Half shrug, as Kaidan lowers himself into a crouch. And with a sigh, his head drops forward. “I was just looking forward to a break.”</p><p>It was then, that Joker seemed to find his stride once more. “You decided to date <em>the</em> Commander Shepard. You pretty much asked for this.”</p><p>Rolling her eyes, Shepard rests a hand on Kaidan’s shoulder. “Joker… come on.”</p><p>“Why are you even here?” At that, he looks up once more, face drawn into a confused frown. “Weren’t you on Arcturus? Or Earth? Or… Mars?”</p><p>With their attention on him, there was a momentary pause, as if Joker had not quite come to a conclusion as to why he was there. Perhaps there was a perfectly reasonable excuse, as he kind of wavers on it, but they’re interrupted by the appearance of a medical team. Joker didn’t look relatively saved by the bell, but he didn’t leave.</p><p>Instead, he swallowed loudly, following them as they’re moved into the kitchen. As Shepard and Kaidan sit up on the bench top, being fussed over, does he finally speak. “I got a message from you that you wanted to meet up.”</p><p>Taken aback, Shepard peers around Kaidan, ignoring the minor annoyance directed her way. Something about glass being delicate to remove, but that was insignificant. Should’ve said that she still had bullets in her gut. Instead, “I didn’t send you a message. I haven’t spoken to anyone in <em>months</em>.”</p><p>Mouthing forming an ‘o’, Joker falls silent. Half a second. “I brought the Normandy and everything.”</p><p>Even as Shepard snorts, Kaidan speaks up. Winces, as medi-gel is applied liberally to a scrape on his arm. “Well, you’re here now. Might need to take a raincheck on… anything, until the apartment is back together. Can help us figure out who these guys are.”</p><p>“One had ‘CAT6’ tattooed on his neck.” Shepard lets the slightest hiss leave her, pulling her leg away from the medi-gel. Too cold. “Thought everyone had kind of given that shit up since the universe didn’t die.”</p><p>“Should I give you two a minute, or…”</p><p>“It’s a <em>little</em> late for that, Joker.” Holding her arm in the air, her shirt is pulled up, her haphazardly applied medi-gel removed in favour of the medic’s. Not enough of a cut to be anything serious, superficial and overheated. It takes a moment for the gel to harden, before she lowers her arm once more, shirt righted. Nothing out of the ordinary.</p><p>“I’ll go make some calls.” Joker’s tone completely betrays whatever concern he might’ve been showing. If anything, he sounded positively thrilled about the attempt on their life. In such a way, that Shepard had no doubt he was tired of seeing no combat. “Get the gang back together.”</p><p>There it was. “Right. We’re gonna need a place to stay.”</p><p>Directed towards Kaidan, but that didn’t stop Joker from speaking up. “I can get a crew in to at least fix the window. This is awesome. Whoever made an attempt on your life, Shepard, I wanna buy them a drink.”</p><p>“Love to see where your priorities always are, Joker.” Kaidan’s turn to roll his eyes, testing his ability to stand once more. “If I was anyone else, I might’ve figured you organised this.”</p><p>“We all know I would’ve sent in more people. Or just, y’know.” Fingers spread out, <em>boom</em>. “If I was so <em>inclined</em> of course.”</p><p>Both of them chime in with an adequately polite, “Of course.”</p><p>“You alive, Shepard, means I get a ship. No matter if you’re retired or not.”</p><p>“Again, priorities.”</p><p>Kaidan extends his hand, which Shepard takes with ease. Stepping around the bodies that remained, blood and anything else that survived (or didn’t). Rests her arm on his shoulder, as she looks over Joker once more. The kind of man who let his mask slip, for just a second.</p><p>There was that worry again, corner of his eye. He was the one who had taken to going through debris, first by shuttle then by foot. Found her, barely alive, still breathing. Joker’s panic was still present in his voice, the edge that hopped out, even if Kaidan didn’t hear it. Same old teases, about paycheques and her being alive, that meant nothing but everything.</p><p>“Look, we need to get changed. You’re paying for lunch.”</p><p>“But—” For once, Joker seemed to pick his battle, in the face of the two of them. A groan, followed by a very drawn out ‘fine’, strain on the ‘f’. “You only get like <em>two</em> meals each. I know how much you can put away.”</p><p>“Fine, fine, whatever you say.”</p><p>It takes a few steps away, first foot on the steps, for Kaidan to sigh once more. The deep kind, drawn up from somewhere that need to be poked and prodded at. “We’re probably going to have to stay on the Normandy.”</p><p>“It’ll be just like old times.” And Shepard doesn’t broach it with nostalgia. A sad sense, as the bedroom is before them now. Breakfast still on the covers, coffee abandoned on the bedside table. “Except… yeah, no, I think everyone really will be there.”</p><p>Shirts abandoned, bra pulled over her head, when she hears him mutter. “I’m getting that damn window fixed <em>today</em>.”</p><p>Shepard knows she should say, worry about it tomorrow. Next week. Worry about the bodies in the hallway and the medi-gel on their skin. Worry about the way her legs were shaking, and how biotics had all but drained what felt like a month’s worth of energy. How there were people out to get her, or him, or them. Together, likely only a few part of the initial pressure.</p><p>Maybe they had gone in, knowing they wouldn’t come out. To test their mettle. Shepard knows she should voice all these, hand on her side, feeling the heat push through. But she can’t fight the smile, at how Kaidan pulled his shoes on, fixed his belt, righted his shirt. All with a perpetually deep frown that suggested more irritation at a broken window and marginally delayed holiday, than the ever entertaining idea that someone was out to kill them.</p><p>It’s what encourages her to reach out to him. Fingers that brush his cheek, rolling up to the lines that had formed. “You really are worried about that window, huh.”</p><p>“Occupational hazard of dating you, like Joker had suggested.”</p><p>“Oh, we’re <em>dating</em> now. Properly and everything.”</p><p>And there were the fractures of embarrassment. Pink around his ears, way he clears his throat. Never had they established anything beyond several dramatic declarations. Shepard didn’t want to pick it all apart and understand each and every action. She had spent her time doing that, and it had driven her mad. But it was fun to poke at now, the ebb and flow of how they, at times like this, floundered in the space in between.</p><p>How Kaidan presses his lips firmly against her forehead, second longer than he should. “Your fly is undone.”</p><p>Until they didn’t.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>